


Landlocked

by auroralmelody, NotASpaceAlien



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Short, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-12 03:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11728200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auroralmelody/pseuds/auroralmelody, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotASpaceAlien/pseuds/NotASpaceAlien
Summary: Aziraphale rescues a stranded mermaid.





	Landlocked

**Author's Note:**

> We were talkin about a mermaid au in our discord chat so I wrote this ficlet c: Loosely based on an illustration by auroralmelody (included)

Crowley hated people with legs.  He really did.  He hated them generally, but he also was filled with a very specific hatred at this particular moment.

They kept ignoring him.  Part of him was glad they were doing so, because he was in a right state and didn’t want anyone to touch him.  They smelled bad and he didn’t want their grimy hands on his polished scales.  But for Poseidon’s sake, did none of them have even the common decency to come over and offer so he could tell them to get lost?

To be fair, he was quite a ways away from where the beachgoers had set up camp, and perhaps they had all mistaken him for a particularly antisocial human sunbathing where he could have more personal space over by the rocks away from the sandy part of the beach.

Gills heaving dryly, Crowley made one more attempt to haul himself up the outcropping that stood between him and the ocean, over which the last swell of high-tide had deposited him.  It was no use.  He slid back down, stomach scraping painfully against the pebbles.

Defeated, Crowley lay there, fanning his fins in and out, trying to decide on some course of action.  He would never make it to the next high tide.

He suddenly noticed that one of the human figures was slowly working its way towards him.  It had a long sort of stick in its hand, which it was waving over the sand and occasionally stopping to sift through and find small buried objects.  Crowley grit his teeth and tried once again to escape his entrapment.

Not fast enough.  The human figure held its stick to the side and made a bee-line for him.

“Come on,” said Crowley, slipping back down.  "Come on, come on."

"Oh dear,” said the human.  "Are you all right?“

"Don’t touch me!” Crowley yelled.

The human drew back without comment.

Crowley turned away from him and tried once again.

“Would you like some help?” the human said.

“No,” he snapped.  "Get away from me.“

The human squatted down.  "My name’s Aziraphale.  Do you have a name?”

Crowley eyed the metal rod in the human’s hand suspiciously.  "What’s that for?“

"Oh, this?” said Aziraphale.  "It’s a metal detector.  I was just hunting for coins and things.“

Crowley snorted.  "That’s stupid.  Is that all you humans do at the beach?”

Aziraphale sat back and watched as Crowley flailed his tail to try and propel himself back into the ocean, but to no avail.  He was relieved whenever the irritating creature moved away.

To his consternation, it came back a few minutes later, holding some beige, square item in its hand.  He squatted down again, this time uncomfortably close.  He could have reached out and yanked one of Crowley’s fins if he wanted to.

“Here, I brought you some food.  Surely you must be hungry?”  
“What kind of food is that?” scoffed Crowley, who was used to eating mostly things like fish and seaweed and the like.

Aziraphale shrugged, but he did not retract the sandwich.  "If you don’t want it, I’ll eat it instead.  It’s my favourite kind, that seasoned chicken from the tiki bar.“

"What’s….chicken?” said Crowley.

Aziraphale waved the sandwich.  Crowley pointedly pivoted away from him.  Aziraphale sighed and stood, taking a bite of it himself.  
The human sat on a nearby rock and watched for a few minutes.  Nervous, Crowley flicked his ear fin and hoped he’d go away.  When he didn’t, Crowley made a redoubled effort to clear the rocks.

The human finished his sandwich and still just sat there.  "You bloody two-leggers,“ Crowley snapped.  "You dump all your trash in the ocean.  You’re filthy.”

Aziraphale sighed and came over, bare feet sifting in the sand to reach him.  He knelt, and Crowley recoiled.  "I don’t need your help.“

Aziraphale picked a piece of stray litter out of his stringy hair.  "I think we both know that’s a lie, don’t you?”  
Crowley refused to meet his eyes, but he held his arms out.

Aziraphale leaned over and let Crowley wrap his arms around his shoulders.  Simultaneously, Aziraphale got his hands under Crowley’s shimmering red tail and lifted him up.

“Oh dear,” said Aziraphale.  "You are quite dried out, aren’t you?  Looks like I got here just in time.“

The accursed rocks were no match for Aziraphale’s powers of bipedality.  Crowley’s tail, which normally billowed behind him so majestically in the water, limply trailed along the ground behind them.

"See, not so bad, is it?” said Aziraphale in a comforting tone.

They reached the water’s edge.  Aziraphale put him down where the waves lapped against the damp sand.  He crawled forwards, smacking Aziraphale in the face with his tail.  A swell came up and washed around him, flooding his gills with welcomed moisture.

He dove down into the shallows, grabbing hold of a reef to steady himself.  He looked back up and saw, distorted through the jumping water, the human figure turn and begin to walk away from the shore.

Crowley swam up and stuck his head above water, third eyelid sliding back to let him see Aziraphale clearly again.  "Hey, um…"

The human turned back to him.

"Thanks,” he said.  "I was wondering…do you come down here to hunt for treasure often?“

Aziraphale’s face broke out into a smile.  "Every Saturday.”

“Oh,” said Crowley.  "Well, maybe you can bring me another sandwich.  And I can bury something really good for you to find.“

"All right,” said Aziraphale.  "That sounds lovely.“


End file.
